Armageddon's Flight
by ZRR39
Summary: The UNSC Armageddon, before the completion of the Infinity, was the largest and most deadly military vessel constructed by the UNSC. It was built for Operation Red Flag, though it went missing shortly after receiving three Spartan III companies from Onyx causing the Pillar of Autumn was chosen for the operation. This is a story of where the Armageddon went and what happened to her.
1. New Waters

UNSC ARMAGEDDON

DATE: JUNE 22, 2552

LOCATION: XF-063, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM

Vice Admiral Douglass Turnbull examined the bridge of the Armageddon as he mulled over the vessel's capabilities. As the vessel was the first of its kind, it was understandable that he had his doubts concerning how effective she would be on her first flight. So far he was pleased. She had made the voyage from Mars to Reach and from Reach to Onyx with no complications whatsoever.

While the vessel was the first of its kind, Vice Admiral Turnbull was well aware of her capabilities. The vessel met and exceeded his specifications, making it the deadliest operational ship in the fleet. Being 2,412 meters in length, 431 meters in width, and 634 meter in height; the Armageddon was a sight to behold. Not only was her size impressive, the three experimental Mark II, Light Coil – 56A2D4/MACs, 450 pods of twenty-six M58 Archer missiles, ten Shiva-class nuclear missiles, 200 pods of thirty M75 Rapier missiles, Variant-V HAVOK nuclear warheads, 86 M910 Point Defense guns with overlapping fields of fire, and her unique boarding spike gave her some very sharp teeth.

Though the Armageddon was an impressive ship, she would not be ready for her mission were it not for the three companies of SPARTAN IIIs that were recently added to its compliment of two Marine regiments, two ODST battalions, and six SPARTAN IIs already aboard.

Once the final checks were made Turnbull was greeted by one of the two shipboard smart AIs, Sigurd. Sigurd's avatar was that of a middle aged man wearing an early 2000's United States Navy Captain's dress uniform. "Admiral, sir, the Armageddon is prepared to move on your order."

Sigurd's extreme military professionalism was a welcome change from the other AIs he had the 'pleasure' of working with. "Good. Plot a random jump, in accordance to Cole Protocol, before returning us to Reach."  
"Aye sir, plotting coarse now." Having set a coarse by the time Sigurd said 'sir', he simply continued without a second's delay. "Coarse plotted and ready sir."

Turnbull's responded with an almost invisible smile, "all ahead full."

As the Admiral finished his statement the Armageddon entered slipsace and there it would remain for several minutes before it exited.

While a peaceful exit was the expected result, their exit of slipspace was anything but. Upon exiting, the bridge lights were replaced by emergency lighting and the normal sounds of the bridge were drowned out by the sound of collision klaxons. Within the time it took for Sigurd to essentially shout "Brace!", the Armageddon began to shutter violently and would continue to do so for the next few seconds.

When the shuttering finally ceased Turnbull released his grip on the handrail and turned to face the other members of the bridge crew. "Report," he said between gritted teeth, confused anger revealing itself in his voice as he nursed his badly sprained wrist, "now."

"Sir," began Sigurd, maintaining his professionalism even now, "we have minor injuries being reported on all decks, but nothing major. I am reading no significant damage to the Armageddon, though our sensory suite is currently being overloaded. From what I have been able to gather, we exited slipspace only to be deposited within the gravitational pull of what I now believe was a wormhole. I am currently unable to determine our location."

Then, as if acting out a part, Sigurd placed a holographic headset to ear and appeared as though he was listening to something. "Admiral, we are being hailed by an unidentified vessel. I am attempting to rectify our issue with the overloaded sensors."

"Open a channel to the vessel and put it on the forward screen."

"Aye sir."

What Turnbull saw next was a minor surprise to him. Confronting him was a shorter man that appeared to be in his forties, with his blue eyes and red mustache giving him the appearance of an Irishman. The gray uniform the man wore reminded him of costume that might be worn by an actor in an old colonial film. Behind this man, Turnbull could make out a number of men, wearing similar uniforms, working at various terminals on what he assumed was the bridge of some type of ship or space station.

Turnbull's initial surprise was washed away when he could see a lack of professional discipline in the man before him. As he opened his mouth to speak he was cut off by the man.

 _"_ _Identify yourself and state your purpose for arriving here,_ _at once_ _."_

Distain for this new character grew as Turnbull's already lacking respect for him dwindled. "I am Vice Admiral Douglass Turnbull of the UNSC, 79823-85130-DT. We are here do to a navigational error." By the time he had finished these simple statement, Turnbull could see the expression on the man's face shift ever so slightly. "Identify yourself and state your purpose here."

 _"_ _I do not answer to you. I –"_

"Neither do I answer to you. If you work with me I can work with you, and I don't make a habit of working with insurrectionists. I will say again; identify yourself and state your purpose here."

It seemed as though the expression of the man changed to one of confusion followed by slight anger.

 _"Insurrectionists?! How dare you accuse me of being rebel scum!_ _I am Admiral Kendal Ozzel of the Galactic Empir_ _e,_ _and_ _I-"_

"That is the who," Admiral Turnbull cut him off, finding humor in the irritation visible on Admiral Ozzel's face. "Now, state your purpose here."

 _"_ _I will do no such thing! You are in Imperial controlled space,_ _that means you answer to me! Now surrender your vessel immediately and prepare to be boarded or else I will destroy you with extreme prejudice! What. Is. Your. Answer?"_

Vice Admiral Turnbull remained silent, his face showing no emotion. After a moment of continued silence, Turnbull turned his head to face Sigurd, who was hidden from Ozzel's view. As if reading his mind, Sigurd displayed an estimated countdown for the Armageddon's sensors to become active again. Deciding he could no longer wait, Turnbull simply pointed to the main view port, to which Sigurd responded by opening the blast shield.

Though he could not tell exactly how large the triangular vessel before them was, he was certain that it was at least six or seven times the size of the Armageddon. He found it rather easy, however to maintain his composure, as he thought back to their recent wormhole incident.

 _"_ _What is your answer?!"_ Ozzel demanded again, his patience obviously dissolving.

"Protocol forbids surrender."

Ozzel was caught off guard, recoiling slightly at such an incredulous response " _Protocol?! What do you mean?"_

"Being a military man, I would expect you to know what protocol is."

 _"_ _Of course I do. What game are you playing?"_

"Were I playing with you, it would mean that I hold a key advantage. An advantage that I would not reveal."

 _"_ _I hold the advantage here,"_ Ozzel snarled. _"This ship, that I command, is the most powerful vessel in the entire Imperial Fleet. You are gnat in comparison. With a single word, I could destroy you in an instant, as is my right."_

Admiral Turnbull turned his head back to the view port, so that it appeared he was looking at Ozzel's ship. In reality he was examining an update provided to him by Sigurd. "Yes, I can see your ship Admiral. It may be large, but I am not impressed." After watching the countdown reach twenty seconds, he turned back to face Ozzel, who was sputtering like a child having a tantrum.

 _"_ _Wh-what? How...dare you?"_

"You call yourself an admiral? I've met civies more worthy of that title."

Fury irrupted in Ozzel's eyes at the insult, _"_ _Enough!"_ Ozzel exclaimed before turning to face his men. _"Ready the Turbolasers and prepare to fire on my command!"_

 _"_ _Belay that order,"_ a deep, mechanical voice responded to Ozzel.

Turnbull could see Ozzel and his men stiffen at its sound. A curious expression appeared briefly on Turnbull's face as watched a man, whose clothing matched the blackness of space itself, stepped into view from Ozzel's left side. The Imperial Admiral moved to give this newcomer a wide birth, before turning towards him and bowing as respectfully as a man terrified for his own life could.

 _"_ _Lord Vader, I_ _was merely_ _-"_

 _"_ _Silence"_

The new figure then turned to face the screen, and while his face was entirely obscured by his equally dark helmet, Turnbull could tell that he was being thoroughly examined by this mysterious figure, whose mere sight caused Ozzel and his men to cower.

As the man, now identified as Lord Vader began to speak directly to Turnbull, the UNSC Admiral's hair began to stand on end, as though his own body was realizing something he himself was not. " _Vice Admiral, I gather from your earlier comment that you are in conflict with the rebels as well?"_

To this Turnbull straightened his posture even further, his expression becoming as blank and unreadable as possible. "How do you define a rebel? Would you say a rebel is a dissident or simply an enemy of your supposed empire?" An increased amount of seriousness detectible in his voice, as though he dared this 'lord' to slip up.

 _"_ _That depends. Who are you exactly?"_

"As I stated previously," he said with slight irritation, "I am Vice Admiral Douglass Turnbull of the United Nations Space Command, commanding officer of the UNSC Armageddon."

The armored man crossed his arms over his broad chest, _"_ _I am Darth Vader, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military, second to the Emperor himself."_ He paused to let his statement sink in, but seeing no effect, he continued with a noticeable edge to his voice. _"And I do not recognize your 'space command'."_

"Nor do I recognize your 'empire'."

 _"_ _Yet you find yourself in Imperial-controled space. Explain yourselves."_

At this Turnbull turned to Sigurd, who had placed a finger to his lips before interlocking his hands as if signifying a proposal for a peace agreement. Turnbull responded to the AI with a slight sigh before returning his attention to Vader.

"I am sorry to inform you that I cannot divulge that information at this time. I do, however, propose that we meet in person, aboard your vessel, to determine how this first contact will play out. Neither of us are aware of the other's capabilities or politics. This means that we could work toward an alliance or begin a war neither one of us would be prepared for."

Vader stood there a moment before Ozzel interjected. _"My Lord, we can't afford to entreat-",_ Vader's raised his hand with an open palm, silencing his subordinate immediately. Turnbull watched with fleeting patience as he awaited Vader's response. The Armageddon's bridge crew held their breath as both commanders stared each other down through their respective view screens.

Finally, after a lengthy silence, Vader gave his response.

 _"_ _I accept."_


	2. A Knife's Point

**UNSC ARMAGEDDON**

 **DATE: UNKNOWN**

 **LOCATION: UNKNOWN**

After he signaled Sigurd to close the link to this Galactic Empire, Turnbull allowed his posture to loosen as he turned to face the AI. A certain sense of relief was felt by Turnbull after the situation was dissolved peacefully. As he watched the countdown for sensors diagnostic and reboot reach zero he spoke.

"Sigurd, get me everything you can on that vessel and our location."

"Aye sir."

Turnbull was never comfortable with new unknowns, and that is what this Galactic Empire was, an unknown force that managed to construct the largest vessel he had ever seen. His mind raced as he did his best to reason how it was possible that an apparently more advanced human organization had gone unnoticed by the UEG, UNSC, or ONI. He was reminded of the first contact Humanity had with the Covenant and so far only saw one difference, these were humans.

His train of thought was derailed as Sigurd answered his request with only a slight delay. "Sir, our scanning of the vessel indicates it to be nineteen kilometers in length. I have also detected a shielding that is protecting the vessel from stellar radiation and will effectively protect it from energy weapons. It is unlikely that this shielding would effectively protect them from projectile weaponry. I have been able to make out nine thousand seven hundred fifty external energy readings that I believe to be weapons mounted to the hull."

Turnbull gave a slight chuckled as he realized that while he could nearly demolish the large vessel with his three MACs, the large vessel appeared to have enough firepower to devastate a small Covenant fleet. His thoughts were once again interrupted by Sigurd, who was now informing him of their current whereabouts.

"Sir, from what I have been able to gather, the wormhole has deposited us into either another galaxy or another universe altogether, and I am inclined to believe it is the latter. I cannot recognize any the stars, constellations, or nebulae within our sensory range."

Shocked expressions were etched onto the faces of every person on the bridge. Several crewmen leaned back from their various monitors and turned to face the AI. After several seconds, the silence was broken by Turnbull after he mulled this new information over in his head. "These differences make this another universe?"

"No sir, it is the difference in the density of the quantum mesh indicates this to be a different universe."

"How will this alter the Armageddon's capabilities, should we find ourselves fighting this Galactic Empire?"

"I have worked together with Engineering AI Jordy to analyze the effectiveness of our Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine under these circumstances. We have determined that traveling through slipstream space here will cover a relative distance one thousand forty levels of magnitude faster than in our home universe."

Confused conversation and stunned gasps were heard throughout the bridge as Turnbull contemplated the implications of this, rather beneficial, new development. "Help me understand how these circumstances make slipspace faster."

"When a SFTE is activated it creates a black hole which is then used to fold and tare a hole in the quantum mesh that determines and binds space, time, and matter. The SFTE expands this hole, to allow an object to enter slipstream space intact, and sustains this hole until the object reaches its end destination. With the quantum mesh of our home universe being one thousand forty times as dense as the quantum mesh in this universe, time and space in this universe can be folded more tightly to make the gap between points of entry and exit shorter. This shorter distance between folds allows us to travel more accurately and more quickly."

The Vice Admiral's expression returned to its normal look of seriousness. "Send Colonel Zuider and Lieutenant Colonel Schäfer to a Pelican, they will accompany me to this meeting. Oh, and get me two of our Spartan IIs and four Spartan IIIs for security."

"Aye sir, they are preparing and on their way now."

* * *

It had been roughly fifteen minutes from the time that the link between the two ships was severed to the time the Pelican landed in a hanger on the port side of the vessel. Upon the opening of the rear ramp; Turnbull, Schäfer, Zuider, and two Spartan IIs exited respectively; flanked on either side by troops in a reflective white armor. As the group moved forward, the four Spartan IIIs remained unseen in the Pelican, thanks in no small part to the Mark II SPI armor they were equipped with. The Spartan IIIs remained still, their weapons sighted in on the four nearest Imperial Troopers as the ramp lifted back to its closed position.

While the men in white armor maintained their composure quite well when Turnbull, Schäfer, and Zuider walked down the ramp; even under their helmets their surprise at the Spartans was evident. A certain nervousness could be seen in several of the Imperial troops as some of them had tightened their grip on their weapons and worked to maintain their composure.

A shorter man in a gray uniform, not dissimilar to the uniform Ozzel wore, approached the UNSC party and introduced himself. "I am Captain Firmus Piett. I will escort you to the briefing room for your meeting with Lord Vader." As soon as the man saw the large Spartans behind Turnbull, his mouth opened slightly as he returned his gaze to Turnbull almost instantly. "This is your security escort? These men look prepared for war, not security."

"That is the only focus of the UNSC," Turnbull responded. It was only then that he realized the truth in his statement. Fighting the Covenant seemed to be all that mattered to them now. The majority of UNSC personnel awoke, worked, ate, and slept with their thoughts consumed by how they could more effectively kill Covies and protect themselves and others from the Covenant juggernaut.

"Reguardless," Piett began, "I must ask that you and your men relinquish your arms for secur–"

"That's not going to happen."

Piett was flabbergasted. "I'm sorry?"

"Under no circumstances are UNSC personnel permitted to surrender their weapons," Turnbull stated flatly, disguising his order as an informative statement. "If I meant any harm, it would be foolish for me to come in person. We have a meeting scheduled with this Lord Vader that I intend to get underway. So lead the way."

Piett took a look at Turnbull's escort then looked at his own storm troopers, who were present on either side of the group. He satisfied himself in knowing that, if this UNSC Admiral started something, his men would gun them down in an instant. Besides, if by some miracle that didn't work, Vader could always use his sorcery to handle them.

"Follow me then," Piett said as he turned to hide his scowl. "But keep that arrogance of yours in check."

"While we may seem arrogant to you," Turnbull responded as he followed Piett, his men silently in tow. "You have yet to dissuade me of the your own pompous conceit, as demonstrated by your superior. Ozzel, if I am not mistaken."

Piett suppressed a groan. _You have no idea._

Clearing his throat, Piett habitually straightened his hat and then his posture. "Very well then, but know this; should you attempt to violate our hospitality in any way, my soldiers will blast you to smithereens in an instant, and that is only if Lord Vader doesn't get to you first. Now come," he turned and motioned for them to follow, "it is best not to keep Lord Vader waiting."

Without another word on the matter, Turnbull, and those with him, followed the Imperial officer through a door at the rear of the hanger that opened to a dull gray, yet brightly lit, hallway.

As they walked, Turnbull watched another man, in a similar uniform to that of Piett, walk past him eyeing him and his escort with obvious suspicion. Upon turning a corner, he saw several men in a white plastic like armor jogging towards them, each step in perfect unison. Down at the end of the hall was a three way intersection guarded by two men, who stood at perfect attention on either side of the closed blast door directly ahead of them. The discipline of this Empire was somewhat refreshing to Turnbull. _I can work with this,_ he thought to himself as they turned left at the intersection.

As they continued down this hall towards a door guarded by four men, they passed two more officers discussing something while examining a tablet. Upon reaching the door, the guards stepped aside to allow them to pass through the now opened door which lead into the apparent meeting room.

As they entered, Turnbull's attention was immediately drawn to the familiar figure in black, who looked up from the holographic image of the Armageddon being projected above the table, which vanished with the push of a button. This 'Lord' Vader rose from his seat at the far end of the table as they neared the table themselves. At Vader's right hand side sat Admiral Ozzel and at his left sat another yet to be identified officer.

"Lord Vader," Piett began, "I have brought them as per your orders."

"Why do they still have their weapons," Ozzel questioned with rage as he stood from his chair.

Before Piett could respond, Turnbull stepped forward to draw the room's attention. "In the UNSC we believe that mutually assured destruction is the best way to preserve peace."

Ozzel fumed as he took a step forward. "Secure their weapons at once!"

When he was only halfway through his order, the Spartans aimed their MA5s at the nearest two imperial troopers and drew their sidearms, aiming them at two more. Turnbull, Zuider, and Schäfer drew their sidearms as well; the Colonels putting the last two troopers in their sights while the Vice Admiral placed his weapon against the back of Piett's head, Piett now shaking slightly.

"If you still want peace with the UNSC," Turbull stated with an uncanny calmness about him, "you will order your men to stand down."

Despite how tense the situation had suddenly become, Vader, like Turnbull, was seemingly unperturbed by this turn of events. He folded his hands behind his back, and for the several moments everyone remained frozen in place. The only sound that could be heard in the room was the heavy mechanical breathing coming from Vader himself.

Turnbull directed his gaze toward the Imperial Admiral, his eyes locking with Ozzel's. _Go ahead,_ Turnbull thought to himself as the right side of his lip curled into a faint grin. _Your move._ Ozzel stormed over to within reach of Turnbull, only stopping when he felt the Vice Admiral press a previously unseen combat knife into his gut the sharp tip beginning to puncture his otherwise pristine uniform. Turnbull's mouth now held a full grin as he spoke through his teeth.

"Go ahead, make my day."

Ozzel facade of confidence finally cracked as he stared open mouthed at the Vice Admiral. His brow had just begun to perspire before Vader decided to remind his subordinates who was **really** in charge.

"Stand down."

There was a brief pause before the Imperial troopers lowered their rifles and returned to their previous stances. The UNSC personnel, however, kept their weapons pointed towards their selected targets, lowering them only slightly.

"Admiral," Vader began, "you are dismissed."

It appeared as though Ozzel finally remembered to breathe as he slowly turned to face the armored form of his superior. "My lord, we cannot allow them to get away with–"

Vader then slowly raised his hand, his fingers curling as if grabbing something invisible in mid air. Without any obvious provocation, Ozzel began to choke, Turnbull's left brow raising in mixed curiosity and surprise.

 _Is it getting colder in here,_ the UNSC Vice Admiral asked himself as he watched Ozzel collapse to his knees, the color draining from his face as he struggled for air.

"You are as clumsy as you are stupid," Vader growled.

Turnbull then heard an unsettling 'snap' as Ozzel's now lifeless body collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Vader lowered his hand, tucking it beneath his cloak. "Remove him."

A pair of Imperial soldiers approached Ozzel's corpse, fastening their rifles to their belts before each took an arm of the lifeless form. The two then dragged the body out of the room as Turnbull looked toward one of the Spartans with his eyebrow raised, signaling his question to the AI residing in his helmet. His attention returned to Vader as he began to speak.

"Admiral Piett..."

Out of the corner of his eye, Turnbull saw Piett's eyes widen. _Did Vader just promote him?_ _Is this how one rises through the ranks in this empire?_

"Y-yes, my Lord?" The former Captain stuttered.

"You will be taking Ozzel's place for the duration of this meeting."

Piett coughed as he attempted to further straighten his already pristine uniform. "Thank you Lord Vader."

"Now then," the dark armored man said as he gestured to the table. "Shall we begin?"

Turnbull took one more look around the room before finally holstering his weapons and approaching an open seat. As he sat the others in his group followed suit. Zuider and Schäfer took their seats, followed by the two Spartans coming to stand directly behind the Vice Admiral; their MA5s held them across their chests, keeping them at the ready.

Vader, taking his seat after the others, rested both hands on the table with their palms down.

"Answer me this," the 'Lord' began. "From what system do you and your 'Space Command' originate?"

Turnbull folded his hands on the table. "The only thing I can tell you is that we are not native to this galaxy, or any of the galaxies nearby."

"That does not seem likely." Vader's tone was obviously incredulous. "I do not tolerate those who withhold important information from me."

"While you may not tolerate subordinates who withhold things from you, the details of our current situation here remains privileged information." Turnbull retorted. "Were I to begin giving you anything more, **my** subordinates would silence me without hesitation."

Vader remained still, seemingly taking time to process Turnbull's statement and its implications. He then reached over and pressed a button on his side of the table. Almost instantly the holographic projector flared to life once again, revealing a detailed yet lacking display of the Armageddon.

"Your ship is of a most peculiar design." His tone had shifted to minor curiosity. "For what reason was it built?"

Turnbull's response was short, simple, and resolute. "War."

Vader's hands clenched ever so slightly. "With whom?"

"Anyone foolish enough to become our enemies."

Vader regarded him for a moment. "I recall your statement from earlier, when you said that you had experience fighting with rebels.

"Ours, not yours."

"Hmm, you seem very proud of your capabilities. Does your United Nations Space Command intend to challenge the Empire?"

Turnbull's expression and tone became increasingly serious as he answered this question. "We do not instigate wars, but our victory in war is inevitable. There is no alternative."

"Apart from 'mutually assured destruction'?" The Imperial commander recalled.

Now grinning slightly, the Vice Admiral leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. "Precisely."

"Your confidence in your abilities is commendable, but misplaced," Vader derided. "The Galactic Empire controls millions of star systems, one of which you are trespassing upon. That places your fate in my hands."

As soon as Turnbull opened his mouth to respond, Vader cut him off and rose from his seat.

"And should you resist, know that whatever damage you inflict on us will be re-payed a thousand fold. If you run, we will pursue. If you attack, we will annihilate. I would strongly advise that you not throw away your lives so recklessly."

Turnbull now placed his hands on the armrests of his chair. "I find your threats rather meaningless. Before you make such threats you should ask yourself; do these threats hold water? While you may be able to carry out a threat against my vessel, the UNSC will remain safe from harm. We are, as I have informed you, based in an entirely separate galaxy. So, before you toss a possible alliance with us aside, you should consider what we can bring to the table. Now let us continue with the understanding that the goal of this meeting is peace."

Another tense and eerie silence followed their exchange. Piett looked back and forth between the two leaders, his forced sternness masking his trepidation. He half expected the whole room to erupt in a firefight should their visitors not yield to Vader's will. What he did not expect was Vader's next choice of words.

"Admiral Piett, inform them of the information we gathered on the Hoth system."

Pietts jaw hung slack before he closed it with a click "Y-yes my Lord."

Piett approached the table and began to type at same terminal Vader used before. In little time, the holographic display change from the image of the Armageddon to an image of what appeared, at first glance, to be four disk like structures interconnected by a large tunnel, and the entire complex appeared to be surrounded by snow.

 _It looks like a set of generator turbines,_ Turnbull considered as he committed the image to memory."What am looking at Captain?"

"Admiral," Piett corrected through clenched teeth. "And you are looking at the shield generator for the Rebel Alliance's primary base of operations on the planet Hoth."

"Alliance?" Turnbull questioned with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean by rebel alliance? How many insurrectionist factions are we dealing with here?"

"They are a large conglomerate of rebel cells dedicated to usurping the Empire's dominance in this galaxy," Piett answered. "They have been a thorn in our side for several years. They must be eradicated for order to be restored."

"Understood," Turnbull responded with a nod. "The UNSC holds the same stance; insurrectionists cannot be allowed to remain."

"Agreed," Piett consented. "And if you assist us with our coming assault on this Rebel base, the Empire will pardon your incursion into our territory."

 _This is progress,_ Turnbull thought as he prepared his answer. _Fighting innies would be a walk in the park compared to the Covenant._

"I don't want a simple pardon, I want a mutual alliance," Turnbull stated, directing his attention back to Vader. "That being said, how can we help? Fleet support? Boots on the ground?"

"Firstly," Vader began, "you should know that this will be your one and only chance to prove yourself a worthy ally to the Empire. And we do not tolerate failure. Am I clear?"

"Yes, you are. The UNSC doesn't tolerate failure either. A failure in battle costs valuable resources, good men, and time; none of which we can afford to lose."

"No, we cannot," Vader agreed as he once again took his seat. "Now, here is what I need from you..."

* * *

AUTHORS NOTE:

* * *

Can you find the shout out?

I do read and appreciate the reviews.


	3. Sattle Up

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

We are still alive, still kicking, and still working!

My coauthor and myself have been rather busy as of late, which was the cause for our long delay on this chapter...

* * *

The commanders of the UNSC and the Galactic Empire had come to agree on every aspect of their strategy without argument. The number troops to deploy, how to use the terrain, when their forces would engage, everything. For all intents and purposes, both sides had an accord when it came to this battle… Except in one small detail.

"…On a final note," Turnbull stated as he and the Colonels with him stood from their seats. "If everything goes south and we find ourselves overwhelmed on the ground, we are prepared to utilize the Armageddon's nuclear arsenal."

"Absolutely not," Vader's voice rumbled like distant thunder, disclosing his displeasure with Turmbull's statement.

It was only now that the Vice Admiral noticed the Imperial officers in the room blanch at the suggested use of atomic ordinance.

"What do you mean 'absolutely not'?" Turnbull questioned in slight surprise.

"I cannot afford to have the base destroyed entirely. There are several high profile rebel leaders stationed there that I need alive."

"Hmm," Turnbull began, "I see your point, but I fail to understand your immediate reaction to a simple idea."

Piett spoke up almost immediately, his shock now audible in his voice. "While the Empire is willing to use any means necessary to defeat its foes, we would prefer our territory to be inhabitable after we have won it."

"This is our mission," Vader spoke up again, "and you will follow the parameters we have set. No atomization."

Turnbull stood silently for a moment, considering what little he knew of the Galactic Empire. There was one thought that remained with him since Piett's promotion, whether or not they were competent. From what he has seen of them, he knew that they had a nearly perfect outward show, but was their military as proficient as they displayed? Could they be so competent when people were moved up simply to fill a vacancy? Why did they react as they did when he mentioned nuclear weaponry? He knew there had to be something more, but what was he missing?

"I am sorry if I ruffled your feathers a little," the Vice Admiral finally responded. "I am simply used to the concept of using nuclear devices in battle."

"Your casual attitude in regard to the use of such devastating armaments is noted," Piett said, "but with the forces currently at our disposal, and the parameters Lord Vader has established, such...tactics would be too barbaric and costly in this situation."

"Seven centuries ago, a brilliant tactician known as General Sherman took it upon himself to inform mankind of the nature of war. He said 'War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over.' There are some things you must be willing to do when the direct approach doesn't work."

"It will work," Vader proclaimed. "No enemy has ever withstood our might. Inform your men of that when you return to your vessel."

"It is apparent, by that statement, you have never had to deal with ONI," remarked Turnbull as he and his men prepared to leave. "We will be ready to engage these rebels as soon as we return to the Armageddon. We'll give you a head start."

With this final statement, the UNSC officers turned to leave and were followed by the Spartans as they exited the room, the Vice Admiral holding a satisfied grin as they made their way to the hanger.

* * *

Piett swallowed nervously as his eyes darted back and forth from his supreme commander, who remained still as a statue, and the door that the UNSC officials departed through. After a full minute of listening to his superior's mechanical breathing, he took a deep breath and gave voice to his thoughts.

"Lord Vader?"

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Hmm...Granted."

"Why didn't you kill them?"

Vader brought his hands to his face and tented them before his mouthpiece. "Two reasons; the first being that they may prove to be valuable asset to the Empire."

"And what was the second?"

Something changed in the atmosphere in the room, as if the air was reacting to the strange and frightening event that occurred in that instant. Piett could feel it, the guards could feel it, even the mouse droid scurrying across the floor could feel it and bolted out of the room through a small duct at the base of the wall. It was a truly frightening concept, even though none of them could see it with their own eyes.

Vader smiled.

"I was far too impressed with him."

* * *

Though it was a short trip from the _Executor_ back to the _Armageddon,_ the UNSC officers had abundant time to discuss how they would inform their men of this new...partnership. Though he thought he hid it well, Turnbull was fairly relieved that the meeting had been resolved peaceably despite its negative potential. Now his only concern was, eventually, returning his men and his vessel home in as close to one piece as possible. Now it seemed he had just involved the UNSC in yet another conflict. First it was the spreading insurrection, then it was the Covenant, and now it was this Rebel Alliance…

Turnbull put his thoughts aside when the feeling of artificial gravity announced their entering of the Armageddon's hanger. As soon as the troop bay was opened, he was greeted by the voice of Captain Shouhei Oshiro.

"Sir," the six foot two inch tall Captain of Asian decent saluted as he handed his superior a tablet that displayed a detailed sensory analysis of the Executor for later study.

"What is it," Turnbull questioned when he noticed the unusually uneasy expression on the Captain's face.

"It's the crew sir. They are all incredibly anxious. Against Sigurd's recommendation, the Armageddon was directed towards this thing," the captain stated as he pointed at the display of the Executor. "The crew is just waiting for this situation to dissolve. They need good news from that meeting, and they need it soon."

"Alright," Turnbull responded as he pinched the bridge of his nose in thought. Then lowering his hand and raising his head slightly, he spoke directly to the shipboard AI. "Sigurd, broadcast this to the entire vessel..."

* * *

All throughout the Armageddon, those not performing crucial tasks, or in cryogenic sleep, turned their heads to the nearest intercom speaker.

"Attention all UNSC Personnel. This is Vice Admiral Douglass Turnbull speaking. Today we have experienced an event unlike any other. While the majority of you are yet unaware of our original task, as that information will remain classified, you may not be happy to know that we were not prepared for what I am about to tell you."

It seemed as though all throughout the ship one could hear a pin drop as the commander continued.

"When we exited slipspace we were pulled into the gravitational field of what we currently believe was a wormhole. We are no longer in our home galaxy, that much is certain. Our shipboard AIs believe we may even be in an entirely different universe. That having been said, it may be a long time before we can return home to finish our fight. However, while this news may be discouraging to you, I have the utmost confidence in our ability to survive this and get back home. But before we can focus on returning home, we must work to be certain that we will remain as safe as possible for the duration of our stay in this new territory."

After giving his crew a moment to let their current situation sink in, Turnbull spoke up again.

"In an effort to secure our safety in this new place, I have managed to broker an agreement with this supposed Galactic Empire. The Galactic Empire has agreed to let us off with a warning for appearing in their territorial space unannounced, which I find something of a relief. There is a catch however. We are going to help them take an insurrectionist fortification. Though they are certainly capable of doing this alone, our participation will be considered due payment for our incursion. After this task is done, we will be free to continue on our way. However, with the understanding that we will be spending a currently undetermined amount of time in this place, I have pushed for this task to be our first step into a mutual alliance with them. Because of this our military prowess will be evaluated by the Empire to determine our value as an ally. We came here prepared to take on the Covenant, so I have no doubt that we **will** defeat the rebels at their base of operations. We **will** survive this. We **will** make it home. That is all."

* * *

 _"United Nations Space Command?"_

"Yes, my master," Vader answered as he knelt before the towering projection of the Emperor. "They claim to hail from another galaxy."

 _"_ _Is that so?"_ Sidious inquired with a hint of amusement in his voice. _"And what else have they told you?"_

"They are unfamiliar with the Empire, and our struggle with the Rebel Alliance, though they have experience with their own rebellions. Everything from the design of their vessel, to their attitudes and even their willingness to use doomsday weapons almost casually suggest that war is all they know and live for, and they are convinced that we do not understand it as they do."

 _"Hmm,_ _strange. You do not normally suffer those who make such audacious assertions_ _."_

"I had a very astute reason."

 _"_ _Apart from your fascination with their boldness_ _?"_

"I could not sense the Force in them."

The Emperor's face betrayed no emotion. _"Not at all?"_

This was the first time in ages that Vader had heard genuine surprise in the his master's voice, but he gave no visible reaction to it.

"No." the apprentice growled.

 _"Do not be upset my friend. This partnership you have formed with them could be most useful against our newest enemy..."_

Only now did Vader raise his head to meet his master's gaze, knowing full well who he was speaking of.

 _"...Luke Skywalker."_

A small spark of concern for his son ignited in Vader's core being, but like the rest of him, the Dark Side was quick take hold of this feeling and twist it into something more sinister and selfish in nature.

"Yes, my master."

 _"He could destroy us,"_ The Emperor went on.

"He's just a boy. Obi-Wan can no longer help him."

 _"The Force is strong with him,"_ Sidious retorted. _"The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi."_

"If he could be turned, he would become a powerful ally," Vader proposed, watching as a smirk slowly crept onto his master's face.

 _"Yes,"_ the Emperor acknowledged with restrained glee. _"Yes, he would be a great asset. Can it be done?"_

"He will join us, or **die** , master." The apprentice declared, finishing his statement with a bow.

 _"Very well._ _Proceed to the Hoth System, and once you_ _have Skywalker in custody, bring him to me._ _"_

"As you wish," Vader said with a final bow as the projected image faded.

But as the light of the projector dwindled and darkness filled the room, the apprentices true intentions echoed through the darkest corners of his mind. _You old fool. You may be my master, but I am the boy's father, my blood courses through his veins. You will not take him from me. He will stand by my side, and then_ _ **you**_ _will die._

* * *

Vice Admiral Turnbull entered the Armageddon's strategy room with his eyes studying the sensory data Sigurd had compiled on the Executor. "Admiral on deck!" Lieutenant Colonel Hardy announced, drawing Turnbull's attention to the Marine and ODST officers standing in the room. While there were seven AI avatars present, and Turnbull took note that only one snapped to attention and saluted, Sigurd.

"At ease," Turnbull began as he walked towards the holographic display table at the center of the room. Being displayed was a strategic map of the Rebel Alliance base of operations on Hoth, or at least as much of it as the Galactic Empire was able to share. At the decided center was the shield generator that would be protecting the compound, their primary target. "Alright Sigurd, go ahead."

Taking his cue, the shipboard AI dimmed the lights to the room and enlarged the image of the generator. "What we have here," Sigurd began, indicating the image with his right hand, "Is an apparent shield generator, which has indicated the general whereabouts of a Rebel Alliance base of operations. We will, along with a contingent of Imperial forces, strike this compound and take control. The Galactic Empire indicates that there are several persons who must be taken as captives. Questions? Concerns? Comments?"

"If this Galactic Empire decides that our agreed assault plan, which they developed I might add," began Colonel Tremblay, "is doomed to fail, how will we proceed? We need to have a backup plan, regardless if they do or not."

"That is exactly why all of you are in this room," Turnbull responded quickly. "If their plan fails us on the battlefield, we will disregard their rules of engagement. We will demonstrate our commitment to a task by finishing the mission. If we have to send in more troops, we will. If the enemy is dug in too well, we'll hit them with our chemical weapons. If we suffer too many losses, we **will** deploy our nuclear arms. If they decide to pull out, we will make them think very hard about stabbing us in the back."

"Admiral," Sigurd interupted. "Our sensors are reporting the arrival of eight new contacts near the contact designated Executor. The Executor is hailing us. Orders sir?"

"Alright, inform the Executor that I am on my way now. I am leaving this meeting in your hands Colonel Zuider. It will be your men on the ground after all. Plot out a sure win, nothing restricted. I want an order of battle by the time we arrive at our target. Sigurd, inform Captain Oshiro that I will meet him on the bridge."

As Turnbull began to leave, he looked back to the table. "We don't want to show the full extent of our capabilities yet Colonel, so we will not be deploying Spartans."

After the door closed behind Turnbull, the officers in the room continued their discussion, coming to decide the best course of action for any foreseeable contingency.

As Turnbull continued toward the bridge, he once again addressed Sigurd, speaking aloud to the ship itself it seemed.

"Sigurd, I need you to examine the video and audio files of our meeting with this Vader character. See if you can't figure something out about his little magic trick. The sooner we get that taken care of, it will be one less surprise to worry about."

* * *

Admiral Piett stood on the bridge of the Executor, observing the distant United Nations Space Command warship while the crew was busy around him. It had been less than an hour since the UNSC officers returned to their vessel. Now as he watched the stars, he witnessed the entirety of Death Squadron arrive in formation to the front starboard side of the Executor.

"Sir," the communications officer called out, "Lord Vader wishes to speak with you."

Piett walked to the rear of the bridge and approached the communications officer's station. As soon as he arrived, the officer reached up to activate the view-screen, which was dominated by Vader's image.

"Lord Vader, Death Squadron has arrived and now awaits your orders."

"Very good, Admiral," the Dark Lord responded. "Do you still have the battle plan for the upcoming assault?"

"Yes sir. I was moments away from transmitting it to the other captains before you requested an audience."

"Do not transmit them yet. There are some… revisions I wish to make."

"Revisions?" The newly-promoted admiral had to reign in his confusion. "Should I inform Vice Admiral Turnbull?"

"No, not under any circumstance."

"Understood," Piett replied skeptically. "What are these alterations exactly?"

To put emphasis on the seriousness of his words, Vader raised a single finger and gestured to Piett at every word. "Listen closely."

Piett paid close attention to each and every detail of the Sith Lord's newest strategy and found it rather intriguing, to say the least. He made the necessary changes to his copy of the battle plan as Vader went on, and when they were finished, he was rather pleased with the results, unfair as they may seem to the common eye.

The UNSC would be _thoroughly_ tested, indeed.

"Very well, my Lord. I will inform the fleet immediately."

"See that you do, Admiral." Vader commanded before ending the transmission.

Piett handed his PDA to the nearest officer. "Send this out to the rest of Death Squadron over a closed network; captains' eyes only. Once you have, connect me to the Armageddon."

The officer saluted and then pressed a couple of buttons on the nearby console before walking away. Static danced across the screen for a few seconds before Vice Admiral Turnbull's image faded into view.

 _"Is your little fleet ready to leave, Captain Piett?"_

"Momentarily; I am transmitting the battle plan to them as we speak."

" _Very well, Captain."_ Turnbull stated, stressing the Imperial's former title. " _I'm getting anxious to see what your men can do._ "

"As are we." Piett did his best to avoid showing his frustration. "Are you and your forces ready to proceed?"

" _We were ready long before meeting you, and we're ready now. Think you can keep up, Captain?_ "

"Certainly," he growled. "Can you remember to address me by my proper rank, _Vice_ Admiral?"

The UNSC Commander grinned. " _When you'_ _ve_ _earn_ _ed_ _it. Over and out._ "

Only when the screen went dark did the Imperial Admiral release his pent up frustration in the form of an elongated sigh.

"This had better be worth it," he grumbled before taking a deep breath and standing at attention. "How long until the fleet is ready to depart?"

"Death Squadron is almost prepared, sir." Another officer answered. "Our estimated time of departure should be one half-hour."

"Excellent. Keep the Armageddon updated on our progress so they don't stall us."

Then, looking out through the front view port, he observed the Armageddon as it repositioned to be in line with Death Squadron's flight path. As he wondered how this UNSC was preparing themselves for the upcoming mission, he was finally able to see the enormous engines at the rear of the vessel with his own eyes. It was at this point that he ascertained the vessel's apparently strict 'function over form' design, and felt a stirring within himself to prove the superiority of Imperial craftsmanship over this flying brick of a ship.

 _By the time we are through here, they will all_ _ **know**_ _that I am worthy of my station._

* * *

As soon as Piett's image was visible on Turnbull's side, the Vice Admiral spoke, being sure he had the first word. "Is your little fleet ready to leave, Captain Piett?"

The UNSC officer did not mistakenly call this man by his previous title, but instead did so to illustrate that personnel in the UNSC earned their rank.

 _"Momentarily; I am transmitting the battle plan to them as we speak."_

"Very well, Captain." Turnbull stated, stressing the Imperial's former title now. "I'm getting anxious to see what your men can do."

 _"_ _As are we._ _A_ _re you and your forces ready to proceed?"_

Turnbull held back a grin of amusement at Piett's attempts to hide his frustration. "We were ready long before meeting you, and we're ready now. Think you can keep up, Captain?"

Turnbull wondered at that moment whether the Imperial Officer before him had mistaken his statement of preparedness as meaningless bravado.

 _"_ _Certainly,"_ Piett's frustration now bleeding through in his growled response. _"Can you remember to address me by my proper rank,_ Vice _Admiral?"_

"When you've earned it," Turnbull responded with a grin of amusement now etched onto his face. "Over and out."

As soon as he finished his last word, the link was severed by Sigurd and Turnbull retrieved his datapad from Captain Oshiro.

"Ensign Montagne," the UNSC commander addressed the navigation officer as he began examining the ORBAT the Colonel Zuider had developed. "Orient us to match their fleet. As soon as you receive relative coordinates, make the jump. We'll see just how fast they are."

* * *

"Princess, you should come take a look at this."

Leia dismissed the X-Wing pilots she was briefing and approached the General, bumping into a rebel soldier along the way. She gave a quick apology and then moved to stand next to her friend, who directed her attention to the strategic display screen he stood before.

"What is it Rieekan?" She asked, examining the readings presented to her.

"Our long range sensors have just detected a small Imperial fleet entering the system from the far side. We counted nine, maybe ten ships."

"What do you mean 'maybe'?" She inquired with an eyebrow raised.

He responded first by pointing to a blinking dot on the display, which was surrounded by four non-blinking dots. "Half a minute before the Imperial fleet appeared, we detected some sort of anomaly resembling a singularity."

"You mean like a black hole?"

"If a black hole worked in reverse," he explained. "As quickly as it appeared, it vanished, and it left behind something that doesn't match any known signatures."

Leia blanched, "it came out of the black hole?"

"Right now we can't say," Rieekan shrugged. "All we know is that it's heading straight for us and is matching the speed of the Star Destroyers."

"A ship that can travel through singularities," Leia muttered, finding the implications disconcerting, to say the least.

"You think it's some sort of new Imperial prototype?"

"As long as it's not another Death Star," Leia complained with a role of her eyes. "How far along are we on the evacuation prep?"

"Not far enough," Rieekan replied grimly.

"Are the troopers in position at least?"

"They're dug in and ready for action."

"Good," she nodded. "Start charging the Ion Cannon. I'm going to check on Captain Solo."

"Yes ma'am."

Rieekan went one way to carry out his orders while Leia made a beeline for the hanger holding the fastest ship in the Rebel fleet. But with every step, a mounting sense of dread tightened its grip on her mind, like some inaudible voice warning her of impending danger that she might not be prepared to face.

She grit her teeth and picked up her stride. _I have a bad feeling about this._

* * *

 **YET ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

While this may have been a short chapter, the next one should be a bit longer... Maybe...

Please do not forget to leave a review, or maybe two


	4. Blitzkrieg Blizzard

Turnbull observed his surroundings for a moment as soon as they exited slipspace, a pleased smile finding its way onto his face as he took note that they had made it to their target destination before their new "friends". Seeing the pedestal light up beside him, Turnbull turned to face Sigurd's avatar before the AI reported.

"What do you have Sigurd?"

"Sir, our sensors are reading a magnetic anomaly on a nearby planet. At this time, I have determined it to be the same shielding technology used by the Galactic Empire."

"That must be our objective. What orbital defense assets are present?"

"I see no hostile orbital assets."

"Move us in."

"Aye sir," the avatar saluted before bringing a holographic headset to his left ear. "Sir, Imperial forces have arrived and Admiral Piett is hailing us."

The Scottish admiral stroked his chin in thought. "Forward them what you've gathered here. Inform them that we are moving to engage and tell them that I am otherwise occupied."

"Aye sir." After a moment's delay, Sigurd spoke up again. "He is not taking it well."

"Where are we on ground-side preparations?" Turnbull questioned, putting Piett out of his mind for the moment.

"Colonel Zuider has informed me that he and his men are ready for combat."

"Good," the Vice Admiral responded as he sat in his chair. "Order all to general quarters and get me an updated ORBAT."

The AI nodded as his voice came over the vessel's internal speakers.

 _"General quarters, all hands. General quarters, all hands. Man your battle stations."_

Picking up his PDA, Turnbull looked over the Order of Battle update he had requested less than a second ago. As he studied it for a moment a satisfied expression crossed his features only to fade when he recomposed his focus. Setting it back down, he watched as the bridge crew went to work around him and felt that something was missing.

"Sigurd, play Beethoven's Egmont Overture. Make sure the Empire can hear it in the background; I think they could use the boost in spirit."

Playing music immediately before battle had been something of a staple for the Vice Admiral. It was as though his orchestral selections gave him focus in the ever changing environment of combat. While his insistence to play such music in the background of all known frequencies was regularly questioned by his peers, it had been shown to increase the morale of the troops as they moved to engage the Covenant.

Having entered the system only moments ago, the UNSC and Galactic Empire had reached close proximity of their target. Following the agreed to strike plan, UNSC ground forces were being deployed in second strike positions.

As D96-TCE Albatross and D77H-TCI Pelican dropships began to move troops and supplies to the surface, Turnbull took note that their new friends were deploying far fewer transports than demonstrated on the Imperial holotable during the initial planning discussion. While thinking little of it at first, as he watched the Imperial ground forces press the attack it became more and more obvious that the Empire had modified the field strategy without informing him.

"Sigurd, get me in touch with Admiral Piett."

* * *

"Feeling alright sir?"

Luke grinned as he slid down into the pilot's seat of his snowspeeder. "Just like new Dak, how about you?"

"Right now I feel like I could take on the whole Empire myself," the copilot responded as he began to close the hatch.

With one hand on the steering control, Luke gave an appreciative nod at his friend's enthusiasm. "I know what you mean."

The Skywalker reached over to grab his helmet as the canopy sealed shut and the snowspeeder began to levitate. But his countenance dropped as soon as he gripped the controls and turned toward the hanger entrance. Even before they received word that the Empire was in-system, he could sense a disturbance, similar to what Obi-wan used to feel. He felt them a few times throughout the last three years, but never one this foreboding.

It had only gotten worse when it was announced that the Empire wasn't deploying a very large force. Rebel scouts indicated that the Imperial ground assault only consisted of about three battalions of snow troopers, half a dozen AT-ST walkers and a single AT-AT. Why would the Empire send such a small force to attack the Rebel's primary base of operations?

The question was still bugging him, and the rest of Rogue Squadron, even as they flew out of the hanger bay. Looking out the window, Luke saw Rebel troopers entrenching themselves at the far outreaches of the perimeter, ready to defend their icy home to the last man. Everyone going in knew that this battle would most likely not end in their favor, as their primary objective was to stall the Imperial ground assault until the last transport made it off planet.

Flashes of red, followed by several explosions, tore across the Rebel line to signal the start of the battle. Luke, knowing it was time to provide air support, faced forward and signaled that help was coming.

"Echo Station Five Seven, we're on our way."

 _May the Force be with us,_ he thought solemnly.

* * *

 **The Executor**

"Admiral, the Vice Admiral is requesting to speak with you."

Piett let out a scoff. "Tell him that I am busy."

"We did sir. Four times. He refuses to take no for an answer."

Piett cursed under his breath before turning to the view screen. "Put him through."

As Turnbull's image came on the screen, his features were relatively composed, though Piett could make out the anger his eyes. It took great effort for the Imperial officer to suppress his amused grin.

"Turnbull, you seem-"

 _"What do you think you're doing Admiral?"_ The Vice Admiral began, his voice as calm as it always seemed to be. _"The plans we agreed to, that you developed, showed you deploying a rather sizable force, which is apparently not the case. If our plans have been altered I need to know."_

"It is simple. The parameters changed."

 _"Would you care to elaborate?"_

"The original plan was developed based on our lack of knowledge concerning your capabilities," the Imperial explained. "But in light of your continuing insistence that you are stronger then we initially thought, we believed it best that you be given opportunity to prove yourselves."

 _"...I see. During future engagements, however, I would advise communicating such changes in advance."_

"Duly noted. Carry on."

 _"Will do,"_ Turnbull responded before he cut the line from his side.

Piett allowed his lips to curve upward into a smirk.

"Sir," a communication's officer called from his station. "General Veers is reporting that the Rebel forces have taken the bait."

"Very good. Tell him to prepare his men for phase two."

* * *

Luke and his fellow pilots flew over the Rebel trench line toward the lone AT-AT. Taking in the sight of battlefield, Luke prepared himself to hit back at the Empire.

"Alright boys, keep it tight now."

"Luke," one of his subordinate pilots called back. "I have no approach vector. I'm not set."

"Steady Dak," the leader of Rogue Squadron spoke to the other man in his cockpit, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Attack pattern delta. Go now."

Arcing beside the armored walker, the Rogue Squadron pilots took several shots before coming back around.

"Alright, I'm going in." Skywalker called out as he aimed several shots at the walker's rear left leg. Pulling back up from under the metal beast, Luke checked his panel before calling out to his wing man. "Hobbie, you still with me?"

Circling back around again, the pilots strafed the AT-AT again, and it still had no notable effect.

"That armor's too strong for blasters," Luke noted to the rest of them. "Rogue Group, use your harpoons and tow cables. Go for the legs. It might be our only chance at stopping this thing." As they circled back toward the walker again, he called back to his rear gunner. "Alright, standby Dak."

"Luke," the man responded quickly, "we've got a malfunction in fire control. I'll have to gun on the auxiliary."

"Just hang on," he responded, shaking his head in frustration at the report. "Hang on Dak. Get ready to fire that tow cable."

Bringing his snowspeeder in low, the Rogue Squadron leader flew in close. Once he saw his shot, Dak squeezed the trigger to the harpoon, the tow cable reaching out to latch onto the walker's front right leg. As Luke began to circle the mechanical beast, the cable wrapped itself around the other legs, until its own forward momentum brought it down at last.

"Woohoo," Luke called back. "Good shot Dak."

"Yeah! Score one for the Rebellion."

"Rogue Leader," Hobbie chimed in. "You read me?"

"I read you Hobbie, go ahead."

"Look down at the ground."

Following his subordinate's heads up, Luke tilted his speeder to get a better look. As he watched below him, he thought for a moment that he was seeing the snow-troopers regrouping. After a few seconds however, it began to don on him that they were actually turning tail and retreating.

"They're falling back!" he called out over Rebel frequencies.

"I know," Hobbie responded in kind. "Look at that! They're retreating! We've won!"

"Look's like it. Alright Rouge Squadron, return to base. Job's done."

As the speeders banked back towards home, the same sinking feeling from earlier returned, telling Luke that something wasn't right with this whole encounter.

 _It made sense that the Imperials would retreat after losing their biggest gun, but again, a single battalion against the Rebellion's primary base of operations? Why so few? The only way this could make sense is if this wasn't their main attack force…_

It was then that Luke felt it. Another disturbance, like a small tremor before an earthquake.

"Oh no."

 **BOOM!**

The snowspeeder to his immediate left suddenly exploded, catching him off guard. But before he could even give a command, the two other T-47s in front met a similar fate, leaving him as the only dispatched snowspeeder left in the air.

"Dak-" he was cut off as he felt his own aircraft shutter before losing control.

"Brace!" his partner barely managed to shout before they hit the ground.

After a short second, Luke managed to force the cockpit open and turned around to see Dak's motionless body. Reaching out and grabbing the man's shoulder, the young pilot came to realize he was already dead. It took a moment for him to snap himself back into reality before he climbed out of the wreckage and into the snow. Facing back toward where they had taken down the AT-AT, he pulled out his binoculars and looked over the horizon. As he trailed his gaze upward, in a search for the culprit, he froze when he saw an aircraft the likes of which he had never seen before.

As it crept slowly nearer, he lowered the binoculars and turned to run back toward the Rebel trench line.

* * *

 **The Armageddon**

"What are you doing Admiral?" Turnbull questioned, his rage at the Imperial retreat quite obvious at this time.

 _"I am simply following my orders, Vice Admiral."_

"Leaving us alone on **your** battlefield, to face **your** enemies, does not do our relationship any favors."

 _"Your continued disrespect will not be tolerated. Today you will learn respect, and the suffering of your men will be your teacher. This battle will show us whether you are a worthy ally or a burden to be cast off."_

Having had enough of the conversation, Turnbull turned around and signaled Sigurd to cut the line before approaching one of the various workstations on the bridge.

"Ensign, inform Colonel Zuider that he may proceed without the Empire."

* * *

After he received the go ahead, Colonel Zuider's eyes scanned over what information they had concerning the Rebel Alliance's theater shield. Zuider had noted that the shield would do nothing to hinder projectile weaponry, but was rather capable in defending against energy weaponry, which was rather unlike the shield technology used by the Covenant, as Covenant shielding systems effectively protected against both. As he watched the ongoing battle footage of the Imperial engagement, provided by cameras on the Armageddon, he was intrigued by how these Rebels were nothing like the Insurrectionists he had fought so many times before.

The first major difference he noted was the diversity among their ranks, a number of aliens and humans fighting alongside each other as comrades. Another thing that stood out to him was that, while the Insurrectionists would commonly use hostages as a means of leverage during combat, this Rebel Alliance did not, at least not yet.

As the Rebel air support began to return to their hanger, Zuider saw his opportunity to attack.

"All stages, report."

 _"Sledgehammer, standing by."_

 _"Jackhammer is standing by."_

 _"Pickaxe is green."_

 _"Storm Cloud, standing by."_

 _"Hurricane is green."_

 _"Sprinter, green."_

 _"Jogger is green."_

 _"Blue Cobalt, ready to go."_

 _"Crop Duster is standing by."_

The final voice to call in was that of the Armageddon's commandant, Douglass Turnbull. _"Fire Steal is standing by."_

"Hurricane, get me air dominance," Zuider began, "Sledgehammer and Jackhammer, hit those trench lines."

* * *

As soon as they received orders to do so, the Pelicans that made up Hurricane took to the skies, moving to prosecute the only four hostile aircraft in flight. As they neared the border of the theater shield, several of the dropships targeted their unknowing foes with their 70mm nose guns and let lose, the accurate and slow but sustained fire guarantying the demise of their targets before they could complete their retreat.

As the depleted uranium rounds were released from their guns, they neared their targets at Mach six and impacted them before they could react. The first shots tore right through the engines of the rear portside aircraft, making it erupt into a brilliant orange-red fireball. One of the rounds over penetrated and put a hole through the cockpit of the aircraft in front of it, taking the head off of its pilot and sending it into the ground, where it exploded as well.

Even as the second aircraft fell, the starboard leading aircraft was subjected to a round tearing its way through its right wing tank, setting it ablaze in an inferno that burned into the cockpit and incinerated its crew.

With almost no discernable delay in the time since the first aircraft went down, the fourth took three rounds through its left thruster, throwing it to the ground at full speed.

Once their targets were destroyed, the UNSC dropships slowed their approach, searching for more airborne hostiles the Armageddon and their sensory equipment might have missed.

* * *

On command, the contingent of SP42 Cobras that comprised Sledgehammer, stationed on a plateau overlooking the battlefield, began to pound the nearest rebel defensive structures with a mix of M66 30mm and M98 105mm light railguns. Reaching their targets at hypersonic speeds, the high density 30mm slugs hit their disk-shaped targets with such kinetic energy that they were utterly demolished, punching through the defensive emplacements before doing the same to the turrets' operators, leaving them no more than mangled messes, the snow behind them stained with their blood.

The small tower like structures, behind the trenches, were hit with 105mm supersonic explosive rounds, which effectively converted the structures into craters. The initial shock of this attack apparently delayed any reaction from the troops in the trenches, which were swiftly removed from the equation by volleys of Argent V missiles delivered from the M12R "Rockethogs" that made up Jackhammer.

* * *

Colonel Zuider watched with a small amount of pride as his strategy unfolded, their first strike had exactly the effect he wanted. As the smoke cleared to reveal an outer defensive line that was cleared of hostiles, the hardened Marine allowed a slight smirk to cross his expression. Even though the battle had unfolded nicely for his troops, the sudden Imperial retreat had forced him to make some minor changes to his strategy, which was a rather familiar reality for him.

Nothing he couldn't handle.

Turning over to an Imperial officer sent to be his 'liaison', he recomposed himself to suppress his smirk. Locking the controls on his PDA, the UNSC officer handed the device to the Imperial.

"This is how we wage war; fast, precise, and brutal strikes."

Seeing a certain frustration in the younger man's features, it quickly donned on the Colonel that he couldn't read the English writing on the PDA, and he watched with slight amusement as he set the tablet down and turned his attention to the holographic map in the center of the room.

"You see, we're not just going to shoot these pukes, we're going to cut out their still living guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks." Turning back to the Imperial, Zuider locked eyes with him and continued, "We're going to murder these lousy Rebels by the dozen."

As the liaison swallowed an apprehensive gulp, the Marine set his eyes on a display screen mounted to the nearest wall. Through it, he was able to see that there was no longer any sign of a Rebel presence in the outer perimeter trench line, and so commanded the next phase of the attack.

"Pickaxe, Hurricane, Sprinter, and Jogger, deploy to second phase."

* * *

It was only a matter of minutes before the various M12 FAV Warthogs, designated as "Pickaxe", reached the forward trenches and secured the position; awaiting the arrival of the M808B Scorpion MBTs and M808B2 Sun Devil Air Defense Tanks that were designated "Jogger".

Once Jogger had reached the area, Pickaxe moved forward to secure, with the assistance of Hurricane, the next defensive position. Once secured, Jogger would move up once again and Sprinter would take Jogger's place, ensuring that the UNSC would maintain multiple possible waves of forces. Moving as they did also ensured the total removal of hostiles from the area, as they compressed the enemy rather than scattering them.

As the Warthogs came near enough, the gunners began to suppress the trench line…

* * *

As the Imperial forces began to retreat, there was a general sense of relief the came over the Rebel forces. Even as some began to celebrate their surprising victory, a series of violent explosions ripped through their forward positions, driving them all to stunned silence. As radio operators tried to get in touch with the positions they had just seen vanish within the orange-red explosions, the communications network devolved into temporary chaos, until General Rieekan attempted to calm the situation down.

"All positions, we can only understand you if your words are clear and concise. Slow down and speak calmly."

As the Rebels readied themselves by ducking back into the trenches, several troopers stuck their heads up to scan for targets. One of those was Corporal Chariovalda.

As the Corporal in question looked toward the forward trench line with his binoculars, he felt a warm chunky liquid splatter against the right side of his face. As he and others turned to look for the origin of the material, their eyes fell onto the now headless corpse of one of their comrades before they heard what sounded like a thunder-crack. As shock held them motionless for the moment, several more loud cracks ripped them back into reality as hypersonic projectiles pelted their position. Being used to the cauterizing effect of energy weapons, these men had just been introduced to a new and more brutal form of warfare with no time to prepare themselves.

As a new foe rolled towards them with such devastating armaments, Rebel moral dropped to near nothingness. Some fired back randomly, others attempted to flee, their previous dedication to holding their positions faltering in this new form of combat. Those that were foolish enough to climb out of their cover would meet only a swift and violent end.

Adding to their surprise even more, a number of previously unseen aircraft strafed their positions, finally signaling the end of their pathetic resistance.

* * *

General Rieekan watched as the strategic display changed to match their current dilemma, and while he tried to hide it for the sake of the others around him, his worry was ever evident in his eyes. Only seconds after the Imperial forces made their retreat, another force had taken Echo Stations 6-4, 5-7, 5-10, 5-2, 4-4, and 3-8 in a swift and brutal strike.

"Sir," one of his communications officers called over to him. "We've just lost contact with Three-Four."

Whoever these people were, they were moving quite a bit faster than even the Empire was anticipated to be capable of. Several questions began to nag at him now. Was this group responsible for the Imperial retreat? Are they some sort of unknown Imperial Special Forces regiment?

As soon as these questions presented themselves, he put them out of his mind, as to prevent distraction at this crucial time.

"Have Two-Four fall back to One-Eight to help defend the generator. Have Two-Six fall back to the North Entrance to help hold the line. I want that Ion Cannon ready to provide cover for outbound assets."

As his subordinates relayed his orders, even in this cold Rieekan's brow began to sweat. His primary concern was the evacuation process, and the speed and harshness of the enemy's sudden assault had drastically compressed his time table.

"What happened to our air assets?"

"They're getting shot down almost as soon as they get in the air sir."

"Blast it," he muttered.

* * *

Zuider monitored the situation with growing ease as his forces advanced. When a recon flight sent back images of what appeared to be a rather large gun, he presented it to his Imperial liaison with a simple question.

"Do you know what this is?"

"That is a V-150 Planet Defender. Likely stolen from..."

"Irrelevant. What is its function?"

"It is an Ion Cannon. They function as a Surface-to-Orbit defense. It can effectively disable any ship with..."

"Why haven't they used it yet?"

"The energy field protecting their base will nullify any shots it fires."

"Good. We'll have to take that out, or capture it, before we take down the shield. Lieutenant," he called over to one of his communications officers. "Request Storm Cloud to hit that target."

Relaying the request, the Lieutenant gave him a thumb up to indicate he was approved.

"If they can't hit us from inside the shield, we'll use their own defenses against them."

* * *

As Rebel forces began to pull back to their new positions, the first transports began to lift off. Chasing swiftly after the Rebel Troopers, however, were the ground vehicles of the enemy. As their morale continued to falter, it suffered a near absolute collapse when a series of large explosions was seen in the direction of the Ion Cannon. It wasn't long before the sound wave reached them, ensuring that everyone was well aware of what had happened.

Their biggest gun had been reduced to a pile of slag.

"How did they hit us from above the shield?" General Rieekan asked himself as he monitored the situation from his command center. "What viable air assets do we have left?"

"Just our transports and their escorts."

"Blast! We need to get those transports off of the ground, and soon."

"General, we've got incoming unidentified aircraft on an intercept course to our transports!"

"Which ones?"

"All of them. They're too big to be fighters though."

"Get me a visual now! I want to know what's coming our way."

* * *

 _"All units, divert from primary target and pursue hostile forces to southeast. I repeat, all units engage hostiles to the southeast of the primary target. Jackhammer, join up with Pickaxe. Sledgehammer, join up with Jogger."_

Hearing the change in orders, Major Chevalier, who was standing beside his M12R, climbed into the driver's seat and grabbed the steering wheel. As soon as the gunner and passenger got in their places, he hit the throttle and drove as fast as he could toward the location marked on his HUD. He was quickly followed by the other 'Rocket-hogs' making up Jackhammer and by the Cobras making up Sledgehammer. At the speed they were moving, it would be just over two minutes before they reached their destination.

As he looked ahead, his passenger nudged his shoulder and pointed to their west. Looking where he pointed, Chevalier saw a single hostile foot-mobile running back toward the enemy line. As he adjusted his course, he called it in.

"This Jackhammer One. Jackhammer Two, Three, and Four, follow me. Let's pick this guy up."

As the four neared the lone individual, he looked toward them and made a futile attempt to outrun them. Circling him and training their weapons on him, the passenger of each vehicle got out and approached, MA5Ds at the ready.

"UNSC! Put your hands on your head!"

After a moment of apparent confusion, the hostile dropped a metal cylinder, as well as a pair binoculars, and complied.

"You-En-Ess-See?" He asked, making his confusion as obvious as possible. Even as he spoke, one of the four men grabbed both of his arms and put them in restraints before knocking him out with the butt of his rifle.

* * *

General Rieekan watched in horror as he witnessed another two of their transports get shot down by these newly arrived aircraft. Using artillery support and vehicles he had never seen or heard of before, these new foes punched through their defensive lines like a blaster bolt through a tissue paper. Having delayed them as long as he could, he ordered every transport to launch, though several had already been destroyed. Now that they were launching, there was nothing more that he could do for them. Several reports he had received made him quite aware that these enemies were not the Galactic Empire, as they detained anyone that surrendered, rather than killing them outright.

Checking his blaster pistol one last time, he and his staff moved to do the only thing they could do now; join his men in their attempt to fight off the hostiles that were already in Echo Base. As they neared the door, however, an explosion tore through it, killing the nearest Rebel immediately. Following this, there was a blinding flash, an ear ringing thud and the feeling of something heavy hitting his forehead...

* * *

Turnbull watched in satisfaction as Zuider's strategy unfolded before his eyes. He used every aspect of the battlefield to his own advantage and made the Rebel Alliance's greatest defense their greatest weakness. While the shield provided protection from the Empire's energy weapons, it did nothing to hinder the projectile based artillery of the UNSC, making it their own casket.

What he had thought would have been a longer and harder fought battle, was instead a swift victory thanks to the apparent inexperience of these forces with the weapons and tactics of the UEG's finest.

A simple, two word, call-in from the ground-side Colonel indicated that the Rebel base of operations was secured. _"Objective complete."_

With a simple gesture, the Vice Admiral changed his display from a ground-side strategic map to a layout of their location in space. With the Rebel base now secured, his new task was to take care of the enemy transports leaving orbit. As he monitored the orbital situation, he was quick to note Piett's ships attempting to destroy them before they made the jump to faster than light speeds.

There was one he found to be of particular interest, due in no small part to its larger size. Without a moment of hesitation Turnbull turned to face his shipboard AI.

"Sigurd, intercept that vessel with our boarding spike, before they can make their jump."

"Aye sir."

Less than a second later, the bridge viewport blast shudders sealed themselves, before the Armageddon entered slipspace and came out again, only about one hundred meters from their target and closing fast. As the spike punched through the outer hull of the vessel, both shuddered rather violently.

"We have docked successfully," the AI claimed with a small amount of pride in his voice

"Sigurd, redirect our ODSTs to the spike deck to board the vessel. Flood as much of it with Narcozine gas if you can."

* * *

Lieutenant Colonel Schäfer and his men climbed out of their SOEIVs and moved to join the other ODSTs on the spike deck. Taking roughly three minutes to get there, they were met by the other ODSTs aboard the Armageddon. As speed was of the essence, the Shock Troopers mounted up on M831 Troop Transports and drove the length of the one thousand five hundred meter length of the spike deck, as well as the majority of the five hundred meter long spike, before again disembarking.

The boarding spike was a hollow, spike like protrusion that faced forward designed to penetrate the hull on a Covenant capital ship. The plating comprising the spike was a unique six meter thick composite specially designed and produced for the vessel. While being prohibitively expensive to produce, the plating used on the Armageddon was tested to be significantly denser, stronger, and all around more durable than even the battle-plate used by the Covenant, though not quite as impressive as Forerunner alloys. The cost of the plating alone would have been enough to cover the production of half a dozen Punic-class supercarriers. While many in ONI would have liked to see widespread use of the material, it simply wasn't possible for the UNSC at the present time.

Schäfer never complained, not when he got a front row seat to whenever the Armageddon speared a Covenant vessel like a shush-kabob. However, this Rebel ship would sadly have to do, for now.

As the massive four-part blast door opened inward, the ODSTs rushed into the Rebel transport. On the immediate other side, the ODSTs found dead, injured, and incapacitated hostiles strewn about cargo and supplies. What delayed them, temporarily, were the sets of blast doors that closed off the apparent cargo bay they were in.

After securing the injured and incapacitated, in an attempt to move on swiftly, Schäfer applied Thermite-carbon cord to the blast door in a small one foot by four inch box shape. After igniting the TCC, the intense heat burned through the obstacle within a few short seconds, giving the Lieutenant Colonel a slot to both peer and shoot through if need be. It turned out that a team of Rebel troopers on the other side attempted to shoot through the new slot only to receive fire from three M7S SMGs.

After a few brief moments, the firefight came to an end and TCC was used to cut through the door to allow the Shock Troopers entry. As the two ODST battalions spread throughout the ship, they easily overwhelmed any resistance and subdued those who were wise enough to surrender. Room by room, the Shock Troopers eliminated and subdued dozens of Rebels, tending to be harsher on those who weren't human.

Once they had taken the bridge, however, they were quick to "motivate" the vessel's commander to convince the remaining pockets of resistance to stand down.

Satisfied with his work, Schäfer opened a channel directly to Turnbull. "Enemy transport secured sir. All crew members restrained, and there are a _lot_ of xenos with them. Permission to prosecute?"

" _Not yet, Colonel. Await further orders. Turnbull out."_

* * *

 **AUTHORS NOTE**

Hello everyone. We apologize that it took so long for us to get this out, but we thank you for your patience.

It has come to our attention that we made a critical error in failing to bring to light the personalities of the UNSC personnel, not to mention neglecting to flesh out their physical appearance, for your sake as well as our own. Rest assured that we promise to put forth a stronger effort to correct these mistakes in future chapters.

We also plan to put these chapters out more frequently, now that we have more time to work together on this, my coauthor and I.

Please bring forth any critique you have, so that we may further improve ourselves.

 _Thank you, and stay tuned._


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